


Sweet Escape

by Behind_The_Hood



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: All of This Could Have Been Avoided Really, Controlling Uncle, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I tried my best, Idiots in Love, Long-Distance Friendship, M/M, Miscommunication, Moving, Mutual Pining, Not Many Characters Are Actually Named, Pallas/Lazar if you squint, Vere and Akielos Are Not Neighbors, different time zones, mentions of bullying, short-distance relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 19:05:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15914415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Behind_The_Hood/pseuds/Behind_The_Hood
Summary: His uncle smiles pleasantly, and Laurent continues to stare at him. “I’ve bought out another company.”Laurent raises a brow. “And that affects me how?”“This merger forces me to transfer to a new building,” his uncle explains. “We’re moving.”Laurent doesn’t physically react to this news, but his mind seems to stutter to a halt before picking up speed, his thoughts shifting from one to the next in rapid succession.He isn’t appalled at the thought of moving, the likely outcome of such a thing could mean that he would be transferring schools, which in and of itself is a relief. But he can’t figure out the expression on his uncle’s face, which is more telling than if he’d outwardly expressed his true emotions.“Okay. To where?”“Akielos. The capital.”





	Sweet Escape

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first piece for this fandom, but not my last. I hope you enjoy this little short story, I wrote it in like a day.

Laurent hugs his pillow closer to his chest, biting his lip and fighting a smile as Damianos recounts his day at the beach to him. His voice is enthusiastic and loud, and Laurent can picture him gesturing wildly as he talks into his end of the phone.

“—And then the crab tried to snap Lazar in the face, so he dropped it back in the water. I wish you could have seen his face; it was priceless,” Damianos says through a laugh.

Laurent does smile then, wistful and sad. “I wish I could see your face,” he mutters.

Laurent leans against the window at his back and lets the pillow lay flat in his lap. It’s dark, both in the room and outside. The sun will be rising in a few hours, but for Damianos it is only beginning to set. Damianos doesn’t know this, Laurent wouldn’t dare to tell him. He hadn’t been very open about where he lives when they chatted on their blogs, unlike Damianos who almost tended to overshare, not that Laurent’s complaining. If Damianos knew that Laurent set his alarm for two in the morning everyday in anticipation of his call, then he may not only think Laurent’s pitiful, but he’s so kindhearted he would stop calling as often so Laurent wouldn’t lose sleep over him.

Laurent can’t lose these calls with Damianos; they are the only bright spot in his day. This time was set up very specifically by Laurent. Their schedules don’t line up at any other point; Damianos is either at work or asleep whenever Laurent is awake to talk, and with school coming up it will only get worse. So, if Laurent has to sacrifice a few hours of sleep, then so be it.

Damianos is quiet for a moment, then a sigh. “I know, I wish I could see yours too.”

They sit in silence, then a far away noise comes through Damianos’ end of the phone.

“Listen Laurent, that’s my dad. I’m so sorry, but I need to go.”

Laurent nods and stares at the floor in front of the window seat, mourning those last few minutes they could have had to talk. “Yeah, I understand. Bye Damianos.”

“Bye Laurent.”

It always takes Damianos a few seconds to hang up, and Laurent holds on to those last few moments before the line goes dead. Laurent likes to think that having to go pains Damianos as much as it pains Laurent.

Laurent closes his stupid flip phone and sits at his window for another half hour before deciding four in the morning is an appropriate time to shower.

It helps to kill the time before he can go to the library to waste even more of his day, lost in a fictional world more interesting than his own. There’s only a week before he has to return to school and he’s dreading it with as much dignity as he can.

All this new year will bring is guys giving derogatory comments on his looks and girls being petty and jealous of the attention his looks get him from the guys. Like he wants it. Girls see him as a threat for being gay, guys see him as a target for being pretty, and he’s all around hated for being smart. Not that he cares what they think, it just gets old.

Laurent is sitting at the island in the middle of the kitchen finishing his breakfast when his uncle comes down the stairs, dressed and ready for work. He comes to stand across from Laurent and stares until Laurent deigns to acknowledge his presence.

Laurent swallows his bite of cereal and sets his spoon into his bowl. “Yes?”

His uncle smiles. “I received some news this morning.”

Laurent sits back in his chair and folds his arms. “Congratulations.”

“It will effect you as well, if you care to hear it.”

“I don’t,” Laurent starts, “But you’re going to tell me regardless, so best get on with it.”

His uncle smiles pleasantly, and Laurent continues to stare at him. “I’ve bought out another company.”

Laurent raises a brow. “And that affects me how?”

“This merger forces me to transfer to a new building,” his uncle explains. “We’re moving.”

Laurent doesn’t physically react to this news, but his mind seems to stutter to a halt before picking up speed, his thoughts shifting from one to the next in rapid succession.

He isn’t appalled at the thought of moving, the likely outcome of such a thing could mean that he would be transferring schools, which in and of itself is a relief. But he can’t figure out the expression on his uncle’s face, which is more telling than if he’d outwardly expressed his true emotions.

“Okay. To where?”

“Akielos. The capital.”

His heart picks up pace in his chest. His uncle knows about Damianos. Laurent doesn’t know how he knows, but he’s certain that his uncle is aware. Perhaps he has seen all the early morning phone calls on the phone bill, traced the area code to Akielos? What if there’s a charge for long distance calls Laurent isn’t aware of?

Why did his uncle do this? What is he playing at? He’s well off and he’s made Laurent completely dependent on him in every way, from any money Laurent needs, to being driven anywhere, all the way down to his pathetic flip phone that has no camera. Why would he be moving them to the country he has a confidant in? What’s his game?

While Laurent ponders over this, his uncle continues talking. “I’ll be packing up things at the office today and having them shipped out, while you’re at the library a moving company will be by to pack everything up and ship it to our new house in Ios.”

Laurent finds his voice then. “It sounds as though you’ve been planning this conversation out for a while.”

“That I have Nephew. We’ll be leaving tomorrow morning, very early. You should pack a bag before you leave for the library, everything else will be boxed up and shipped out before you return. We’ll be staying in a hotel the first week there while everything in unpacked, so bring plenty of clothing and toiletries.”

Laurent knows with a sinking feeling in his chest that he’ll likely miss Damianos’ calls this week. By the twinkle in his uncle’s eyes, he knows this too.

* * *

 

Laurent and his uncle’s taxi is pulling up to the airport doors when Laurent’s phone begins to ring. Only two people call Laurent, his uncle and Damianos. He and his uncle stare at the number flashing across the screen and watch it ping for attention. Laurent is thankful he didn’t save Damianos’ number.

His uncle looks at Laurent. “Are you going to answer that?”

Laurent swallows then reaches for the door handle. “It’s probably a wrong number.” He shoves the phone into his pullover pocket.

His uncle follows him out and they go to grab their bags from the trunk. The phone begins to ring again, and Laurent can feel his uncle staring holes into the side of his head as he ignores it.

“Must be important if they’re calling again,” his uncle says, nonchalant.

Laurent lets it go to voicemail again and they head into the airport. When it begins to ring a third time, Laurent takes it out of his pocket, flips it open, hangs up the call, then turns off the phone. His uncle’s eyes are on him, but they continue on without further issue.

The plane ride is first class and quiet, if long. Laurent reads through the flight, and his uncle sends emails and texts to different business partners with his giant, fancy smart phone.

When they land and travel to the hotel, his uncle is still focused on his phone. The room is large and extravagant, if a little austere and unadorned. Two queen sized beds, twin balconies, a small sitting area, a large TV, a kitchen area. Everything is white and gold. Very Akielon in style. Simple. Boring.

“I need to head to the new building and oversee a few things, I may set up my new office while I’m there. You should try to stay awake Nephew and get ahead of the jetlag,” his uncle says as parting words, dropping his bag at the door, and leaving.

Laurent doesn’t have a room key and can’t leave without being trapped out of the room, and he has no money to buy an extra key. He can, however, order room service and charge it to the room, so he won’t starve while his uncle is gone.

The sun was just beginning to rise when they had landed, and is properly in the sky now, the city around him alive with early morning activity. Damianos would be waking up somewhere in this country right now, and Laurent hoped he was thinking of him like he was thinking of Damianos.

He sits on the edge of the bed and takes his phone out and turns it on. It takes a few minutes to boot up, but once it has, Laurent sees he has five missed calls and one voicemail. He checks the voicemail, holding his phone with a clenched fist and bated breath.

“Laurent? Are you okay? You’ve never not answered one of my calls before and I’m worried about you. You haven’t posted anything on your blog since a few days ago either, and that was before our call last night…I don’t know how else to reach you…Please get back to me soon so I know if you’re alright…Bye… _Beep_.”

Laurent’s heart feels heavy while his stomach feels light. He never meant to make Damianos worry, but he feels a little delighted that Damianos is worried about him. The elated feeling quickly leaves him when he remembers that he won’t be able to answer any calls while his uncle is sharing a space with him. He can’t reach Damianos through his blog because his uncle began monitoring that after finding out that Laurent had a messaging service on it.

Laurent lost two good friends that day, Vannes and Nicaise.

But he had given Damianos his number before that incident, a few weeks before, and the messages had self-deleted after a while. His uncle never found out. Until now. Or maybe he had always known and was simply waiting for the opportune time to strike, like now.

Damianos had a vague idea about Laurent’s uncle, but knew nothing about him other than that he was a little controlling, because Laurent hadn’t opened up about it; for obvious reasons, he never cared to talk about his uncle. Laurent didn’t talk much about his personal life in general, but he had confessed to Damianos that the rest of his family was dead.

A new feeling of guilt floods Laurent when he realizes that if this is how Damianos acts after one day of missed calls, he’s going to go into a full-on panic when Laurent misses a week’s worth. Damianos is probably going to think Laurent is lying up in a hospital dying.

Laurent huffs out a breath and goes to step out on one of the balconies the room offers. Fresh air and a fresh view. The hotel is marble and parked very close to the sea, across from a few small stores lined up against the sand, so Laurent watches as groups of people play in the sand and water. Nearly every single one of them have dark, sun-kissed skin and athletic bodies. Even those with lighter skin closer to his own have athletic bodies. Akielos is a country that appreciates athleticism; Laurent isn’t going to fit in very well.

“Come on Damen, cheer up man!” Laurent hears someone shout below him. A group of men are walking down the sidewalk across from the hotel towards the beach, and one is visibly sullen compared to the rest of the group. They are all tan, some clearly Akielon by their skin tones, and all very well built. Laurent feels small looking at these guys.

Laurent feels hot suddenly, and insecure, so he heads back into the hotel, firmly closing the balcony doors behind himself, leaving the men to their sulky friend and their business.

Laurent spends some time reading in bed and waiting for his uncle to return. He showers after a while, puts on a light blue sweater and white jeans after. Then begins to braid his hair when he grows bored of reading. His mother had taught Auguste to braid and Auguste had taught Laurent. When Auguste died Laurent continued to braid his hair, but he wasn’t very good at first. He’s become perfectly proficient at it since then.

When his uncle returns, Laurent’s just finishing a plain braid in his hair and the sun is going to set soon.

He watches Laurent for a moment, Laurent sitting cross legged on the bed and his uncle standing in the doorway.

“We’re going out to eat.”

Laurent forgot about lunch.

* * *

 

Laurent and his uncle are walking out of the hotel when Laurent’s phone begins to ring again. His uncle doesn’t look at him, but Laurent can see the uptick of his lips.

Laurent takes his phone out and hangs up the call, turning it off immediately after.

They go into a restaurant of his uncle’s choosing and are shown to a corner booth. Laurent can see the guys from earlier sitting at the large booth in the other corner, their sulky friend isn’t with them but standing off in a secluded corner by the bathroom doors, his phone to his ear and a frown on his face.

“Do you know what you want?”

Laurent looks back at the menu in front of him. It’s all seafood. He orders based off the meals that have pictures. He ends up getting a honey glazed salmon.

Eventually, Sulky goes back to his friends, all of them giving him weak smiles when he lays his head on the table.

“The house should be ready sooner than was initially thought, and I’ll be signing you up for school tomorrow. You’re required to go with me to fill out a schedule. After that we’re stopping by the house to see how it’s going.”

Laurent nods and then they sit in silence as they wait for their food.

“Hey Blondie!”

Laurent looks up at that, confused. Some of the guys from the corner booth begin catcalling him. A few have bottles in their hands and Laurent knows they’re intoxicated. Sulky still has his head down.

His uncle doesn’t look up from his phone. “Just ignore them,” he mumbles, his attention elsewhere.

Laurent looks back to the guys anyway. They don’t seem much older than himself, but then the drinking age in Akielos is lower than it is in Vere.

Their waitress comes up to his table looking troubled and sorry. “Would you like me to ask them to leave?”

His uncle answers. “Tell them he’s fifteen.”

She nods and hurries off. Laurent frowns at his uncle. He recently turned seventeen. The guys in the corner quiet down immediately though, so Laurent lets it go. They end up leaving by the time Laurent and his uncle get their food.

They eat in silence, pay in silence, and leave in silence.

Laurent goes to bed that night with Damianos on his mind.

* * *

 

“Now, school starts today, but from what I understand, you haven’t even moved into your house yet, so feel free to just start next week. It’s only Wednesday anyway. Missing the first three days won’t hurt you. Based on your grade I’m sure you’ll catch up in no time.” The lady at the front desk smiles at them, then hands Laurent his schedule and locker combination.

Laurent and his uncle leave the massive school after that, having declined the tour. They head for their new house, likely made of marble like every single building in this country seems made of.

The house is in fact made of marble. It’s only a single story but has high ceilings and more room than the two of them could possibly need. And looks odd with all the Veretian decorations filling the place. A mix of Akielon and Veretian. It’s not wholly unpleasant, but a confusing cultural mix nonetheless.

At least the white of the marble compliment the blue and gold everywhere.

Movers are bustling around the space, but the house looks nearly move-in ready. Laurent leaves the chaos to his uncle and steps out onto the yard. This close to the coast, the land is sandy or sheer cliffs, whereas farther inland is more flatland, good for farming. They are still very close to the beach, Laurent could walk there in nearly twenty minutes.

He wonders if Damianos is having fun on his first day of school, or if he’s busy worrying about Laurent again? Laurent hadn’t turned his phone back on after yesterday, and he doesn’t plan to turn it on until he has his own bedroom for a sanctuary again.

It shouldn’t be too much longer.

Just a little longer.

The bonus to having a lot of money? You move in and out of places very quickly.

“Come Laurent, we may be in our house by late tomorrow.”

House, never a home. Laurent gets to his feet, brushes the grass off his pants, and follows after his uncle. The sun is low, but far from setting.

Getting back to the hotel is uneventful. The same cannot be said for the group of guys walking by the hotel. Sulky is being held back by two other big guys and a man with an ugly face and bleeding nose lies on the ground, both looking angry. His uncle startles.

“Govart!”

The ugly man looks up then, so do the group of guys. Govart smirks.

“Hey boss, great to see you again.” He looks Laurent up and down. “You’ve aged well.”

Laurent ignores him.

Laurent’s uncle helps Govart to his feet and Laurent hangs back, observing. The guys are all in beach wear and dry. The anger hasn’t drained from Sulky’s face, but he has reeled it in. He’s a lot bigger up close. They all are.

Laurent’s uncle turns to Sulky. “I’m sure you gentlemen have your reasons, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

One of the darker skinned guys grabs Sulky’s shoulder. “Come on Damen. Let’s just go.”

Sulky glares at Govart and his uncle for a moment longer before they turn and leave. Sulky takes his phone from his pocket as he storms away, leading the pack.

Laurent’s own small group watch them leave, then his uncle walks in the doors. “Come along Laurent.”

Laurent watches the group step out onto the sand, then follows after his uncle.

* * *

 

Laurent is left at the hotel the next day, and he spends it reading. Govart and his uncle had spent last night whispering out on the balcony, tones so hushed Laurent would be surprised if they could even hear each other.

Laurent has never met Govart, but apparently Govart knows who Laurent is. He very thoroughly unnerves Laurent, not that Laurent will ever show him this.

Laurent goes out to the balcony when it starts to grow dark out, looking out at the beach goers and feeling a lot like Rapunzel, trapped in an ivory tower.

“Hey Blondie!”

Laurent jolts from his daze and glances down. The group of guys that seem to haunt this area of city are waving to get his attention. Sulky is standing a few yards away, his phone to his ear and his back to Laurent.

Laurent stares at the group, waiting for them to say something to him. When they don’t, he asks, “What?”

“Want to come hangout with us instead of the old guys?” Some other blond asks, his arm around the waist of a guy both taller and darker than him.

Laurent frowns. “I’m not hanging out with them.”

“Sweet, then come down and hangout with us. We’re gonna go catch crabs.” Some of the guys start to chuckle. Laurent frowns. Is that an innuendo?

“No thanks.”

They clearly weren’t expecting this answer. Sulky sits on the sidewalk and puts his head against the wall of the storefront, his phone going between his face and his ear, repeatedly.

“Why not?”

“Why does it matter?” Like Laurent is gonna tell these recurring strangers he’s locked in his hotel room because his uncle is a dick.

“Because you’re fifteen and need to be around people closer to your own age!”

Laurent is not convinced. “I’m seventeen, not fifteen. And my answer still stands.” Laurent turns away from the group and heads back inside.

“Oh, hey Damen. He still hasn’t answered?”

The doors close with a quiet click, and Laurent sits on the floor.

With his phone shut off and all his books read and read again, Laurent has nothing to do until his uncle returns.

He eventually does, a few hours later. “Pack your bag, the house is ready.”

Laurent obediently packs up his things and walks with his uncle down to check out. Then they step out onto the sidewalk and wait for their ride to take them to their new home. Laurent’s uncle leans against the wall of the hotel, on his phone, and Laurent stares up at the stars. He wonders if Damianos is looking at the same stars.

Their cab pulls up just as Laurent hears the familiar sound of the guys coming from the beach, laughing about their catches. Laurent and his uncle are closing the trunk when they’re across the street.

“Leaving already Blondie?” the other blond calls out.

Laurent’s uncle glances over at them dismissively then gets into the cab. Laurent follows suit. They leave the group in their dust.

* * *

 

Laurent’s room is already set up when he enters, dropping his bag at his feet. He closes the door with his foot and stares at all of his things in this new room.

Every wall is white marble, and so is the floor. His uncle purchased a very large rug that takes up most of the floor. His bed is in a corner, his shelfs line an entire wall, his books are placed there, likely not in any coherent order, and all his belongings are set in places he doesn’t like.

Laurent spends his first night in the new house rearranging everything in his room.

Laurent sleeps well into the next day.

It’s midday when he finally rises and bothers to shower. He braids his hair, then sits on his bed and stares down at his phone. He turns it on and watches with an itchy feeling as it boots up.

Twenty-three missed calls and six voicemails.

Laurent looks at the time in the corner of the screen. All he has to do is wait about three more hours and then Damianos should call again. Or maybe Laurent can call him instead? Except Laurent doesn’t know if Damianos is calling him the second he is free to do so. If Laurent calling sooner would be a hinderance to whatever Damianos does beforehand. They had a schedule for a reason, Laurent reminds himself.

Laurent decides to wait for Damianos to call him and can’t bring himself to listen to the messages left in his voicemail. He just knows Damianos’ worry has increased since the first call and doesn’t know if his self-control will allow him to wait the last few hours he needs before Damianos calls. He puts it on the charger and leaves the room.

Laurent makes himself a meal, something slow to pass the time, then eats that meal slowly, to pass the time.

Laurent ends up back in his room, sitting on his bed, clutching his phone, and watching the minutes tick by on his grandfather clock between his bookshelves. He glances out the window a few times, watches as the sun gets lower and lower in the sky, giddy anticipation making him antsy.

“Laurent!”

Laurent’s heart drops to his stomach so quickly he thinks he may be sick. He sucks in a harsh breath and feels like his world is growing fuzzy. This couldn’t be happening. His uncle couldn’t really be home now, couldn’t really need him right now.

Laurent’s door opens, and then his phone cries for attention.

His uncle walks into his room, glances at the phone, then into Laurent’s eyes.

It’s a dare.

Laurent hangs up the call with a tingling finger, never breaking eye contact with his uncle.

Trapped.

He’s trapped.

Laurent doesn’t feel like he’s getting enough air in his lungs. He croaks out, “Yes?”

His uncle smiles. “I was wondering if you would like to go out to eat?”

It’s a trap.

And he can’t escape.

“Yes Uncle.”

Laurent turns off his phone and follows his uncle out to the new car he’s bought for himself. It’s red.

And Laurent is numb.

* * *

 

Laurent thinks he’s been to this restaurant before, and has sat at this table before, and ordered this fish before. But his vision is a blur, his food tastes like ash, and his mind isn’t focused.

“Hey! It’s Blondie.”

His uncle has done it, he has trapped Laurent. Taken everything from him. All Laurent has left is his uncle.

Damianos is gone, just another precious thing ripped from Laurent’s grasp. His last friend lost.

“Blondie?”

“If you don’t mind, we’re trying to enjoy our meal.”

That’s why they moved to Akielos, to take away Laurent’s secret early morning calls. He can’t answer a call his uncle can stop. He probably only still has the phone so his uncle can watch him suffer through missing the calls.

“He doesn’t look like he’s enjoying his food. He looks like he’s gonna puke, actually. You okay Blondie?”

“He is fine. Please leave us.”

“I’m not just gonna leave when—”

Laurent looks up. His uncle looks as blank faced as always, but he smiles for Laurent. “Can we leave now?”

“Of course, Nephew.”

Laurent rises and gets caught in the booth. He drops back in his seat and feels almost dizzy. He feels lost. His throat is tightening up and he can’t breathe. He forces in a breath and scoots out of his seat and heads for the exit. He walks passed the group of guys, all of them watching, but he isn’t sure of their expressions, he doesn’t look. He just needs to get to the car and go home. He just needs to sleep.

When Laurent finally drops onto my bed, he has another four missed calls, but no voicemails.

His throat burns and tightens. His vision blurs.

“I miss you Damianos,” he whispers into his pillow, held tight to his face.

Laurent turns off his phone and puts it on top of a bookcase, so he can’t see it.

* * *

 

The weekend is a blur of sleeping, meals in the kitchen with his uncle, and more sleeping. His phone catching dust on the book shelf, left alone, but not forgotten.

Monday morning rolls around and Laurent crawls into the shower and emerges indifferent to the world. He has his pens and notebooks, a book to read when he’s bored, and a little money to eat. His pullover is large and has a big front pocket. He tucks his phone into his backpack with his other things.

“Have a good day at school Laurent,” his uncle says out the window as Laurent climbs out of the car. “Try to make some friends.”

Laurent ignores the comment and heads inside with all the other kids, his schedule memorized by classroom numbers.

Laurent would like to think he doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb, but he’s so pale he glows, and his blond hair is like a beacon amongst all the dark hair. He’s not the only blond or light skinned person here, but he seems to stick out the most. New face.

He goes to his first class without a problem. He sits in the back, he makes his notes, he doesn’t talk to anyone and no one talks to him in return.

His next two classes follow a similar pattern.

He has a free period just before lunch, so he heads for the library and sits in a corner in the back to read his book. Not many people come in and it’s quiet. He isn’t bothered for at least half the period.

“Hi.”

At the sound of a soft voice, Laurent looks up from his book. A nervous blonde girl is standing across from him, a book in her hand. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and looks at the table between them.

“Hello,” Laurent greets, cautious but polite.

“Can I…can I sit here?”

Laurent looks at the empty library around them, at all the other spaces she could chose from, then back at the girl before him.

“Sure.”

She gives him a small smile and sits across from him, silently opens her book, and begins to read. Laurent watches for a moment longer then goes back to his own book.

They read in relative silence for the rest of the period, the only interruptions being that of kids coming in looking for books themselves or asking to use the computers. When the bell rings, they both startle from their stories, and rise to head to lunch.

“I’m Lykaios, by the way,” she holds out her hand.

Laurent takes it. “Laurent.”

She gives a smile and drops eye contact.

They walk to lunch together, get their food together, and when she heads for an empty table in the corner, Laurent follows after her. The tables are rectangular and in rows with stools attached.

He and Lykaios eat in silence and when they finish she pushes her tray to the other side of the table to be dealt with later, Laurent follows suit. He is nothing if not adaptable.

She taps her fingers against the table, glances at him, then blushes.

“What is it?” Laurent asks.

Her cheeks darken further. “Just…your hair is really pretty. I…I love your braid.”

Laurent isn’t expecting that. He thought she might come onto him and he was going to have to inform her that he was gay and not interested, thusly losing yet another friend. He almost feels ashamed having jumped to such a conclusion.

“I can braid yours, if you want?” he offers.

She perks up at that, her eyes meeting his and smile timid but bright. “Really?”

Laurent smiles back and nods. She turns in her seat and Laurent begins parting her hair into sections. Several different types come to mind. Her hair is long and a little on the thicker side, so there are many types he can do, but goes for a loose plait. She offers a hairbow by the end.

“Thank you so much…” she whispers as she gently pets at her hair.

They don’t speak for the rest of lunch, but they do read in companionable silence.

When they are told to take their trays, she catches his sleeve. “I sit on the bleachers after school to watch the lacrosse team before my ride gets me. Do you want to sit with me?”

Laurent thinks of his uncle working until nearly six at night, and of the fact he has to walk home. “Sure.”

Her smile is worth it. Maybe he’ll be okay without Damianos after all. He just hopes Damianos has friends to help him cope without Laurent.

He doesn’t see Lykaios again for the rest of the day, but the school is huge, and he isn’t that surprised by this. He also spends most of his time not looking people in the eye, so he easily could have passed right by her without either knowing.

When school ends he wanders outside, towards the large bleachers he had seen coming to the school. The field is large, paint still fresh, and full of both guys and girls in mismatched jerseys goofing around with sticks and balls.

He looks up the bleachers and sees Lykaios sitting alone near the very top. He remembers her mentioning waiting for her ride and considers that she may sit there for the vantage point. He joins her.

She smiles when he arrives and pats the spot beside her. Laurent sits and they both begin to read again. If nothing else he’s found a reading buddy.

“Hey Lykaios! Who’s your friend?”

They both look up as they’re shouted to. Laurent cannot believe his luck.

The guy’s face lights up. “Blondie?!”

Several other heads look over at this exclamation.

Laurent wilts a little and Lykaios is shifting at his side, more of her nervous gestures. The guy hops up and over the railing and jogs up the bleachers to join them.

“Look at us. Just a bunch of blonds, hangin’ out.” He sits himself between them and throws an arm around both. Laurent shrugs it off. Lykaios drops her head and pulls in her shoulders.

“Go away,” Laurent tells him, sliding away.

The guy holds a hand to his chest and looks hurt. “I was really worried about you the other day, and this is how you repay my friendship?”

“We aren’t friends.”

“Harsh man.”

A thud that shakes the bleachers has all three looking down the steps. Sulky is making his way up.

“C’mon man, Makedon is gonna have us start soon. Quit bothering them.”

The blond rolls his eyes at Sulky but rises.

“I’m going to go tell my boyfriend you were being mean to me and he’s gonna beat you up later.”

Sulky and the guy both smile, and he leaves. Sulky stays.

“I’m so sorry he was bothering you guys. He means well.”

Lykaios nods but doesn’t look up. “I know.”

Sulky turns to him. “Hi. We haven’t been properly introduced despite how many times we’ve met. I’m Damen.” He holds his hand out.

Laurent stares at it for a long time, glances at Lykaios who has a small smile on her lips, then slowly takes his hand. “Laurent.”

Damen’s eyes widen, and his grip tightens so suddenly Laurent’s hand aches.

“Laur…” he trails off in a whisper.

“Damianos! Get down here so we can start!" a man with a gruff voice bellows from the field below.

Laurent’s own eyes widen, and he feels a little weak. “Damianos…?”

“Laurent!” Damianos shouts.

Laurent is suddenly grabbed around the waist and wretched from his seat. He hears Lykaios gasp from her spot beside him. Damianos wraps his arms tight around Laurent and holds him close.

He hesitantly wraps his arms around Damianos’ shoulders.

“Is this really happening?” Damianos’ breath is hot on his neck when he asks the question. Laurent feels an odd thrill tingle through his whole body. Damianos' arms are tight around Laurent’s waist, forcing Laurent to his tip toes, and Damianos feels like he’s shaking.

Laurent nods. “I think so…”

Damianos pulls away then, slowly, and looks down at Laurent. He’s so much taller than Laurent, and wider. Laurent feels a flush creeping across his cheeks.

Damianos’ hand cups his neck, his thumb caresses Laurent’s cheek.

Laurent thinks about kissing him. He’s wanted to for so long, not even knowing the face on the other end of the conversations. He fell in love with a personality, then he fell in love with a voice, and now he’s fallen in love with a face. A face he was sure he would never see, a voice he would never hear again.

Damianos kisses him.

Laurent sucks in a breath, and Damianos kisses him again, and Laurent kisses back.

Damianos’ arm tightens where it remained around his waist, and Laurent’s hand drifts into his hair.

When Damianos pulls back, Laurent, embarrassingly enough, whimpers at the loss. When he presses his forehead to Laurent’s, it’s a small comfort. Laurent thinks he hears someone walking away from them. Privacy.

“All this time, you were right there. I’ve been calling and calling and worrying myself sick over why you weren’t answering. Thinking of every worst case scenario, and you were okay and right in front of me. You were okay—” Damianos steals a peck— “Why didn’t you answer your phone? Why didn’t you tell me you were in Akielos? In _Ios_?”

“I couldn’t. My—” Laurent stops so suddenly the words choke in his throat. Damianos doesn’t know. He can never know. “I had a problem and couldn’t answer…” A lie. A dirty, dirty lie. He hates lying to Damianos.

Damianos doesn’t ask, Laurent is thankful for small mercies. He’ll tell Damianos, Laurent swears to himself, one day.

“Damianos!”

Damianos’ hold loosens. Laurent doesn’t want to let him go. He knows he needs to go. He isn’t sure which of them he means.

“I have to go…Coach is gonna kill me,” Damianos whispers.

Laurent makes himself nod and loosen his hold. He’s sure they’ve made quite a spectacle.

Damianos gives a quick tug and Laurent is crushed against him again. Their eyes meet. “I love you Laurent. I should have told you a long time ago.”

Laurent melts in his arms, his knees putty. He smiles and gives a parting kiss to Damianos. “I love you too Damianos.”

Damianos smiles and kisses his forehead, then releases him and heads back down the bleachers.

Life isn’t good. It’s barely okay. But Damianos has always had a way of masking the ugly. A shining light in the darkness. Laurent is going to have Damianos in his life now. Whether his uncle intended it or not, Damianos is within easier reach than he ever was before, and Laurent thinks maybe he isn’t as trapped as his uncle had hoped.

He has an escape.


End file.
